


Like the Pull of the Tide to the Moon

by tacchans



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pining, Requited Love, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 06:24:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14928902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tacchans/pseuds/tacchans
Summary: If he still had a throat it would have a knot in it, if he still had a stomach he would have butterflies, if he still had a heart it would stop.





	Like the Pull of the Tide to the Moon

“Hey _Spitfire._ ” he sighs heavily as he sits next to Cayde, their legs hanging over the side of the Tower, plucking the cigarette out of Cayde's mouth and taking a drag from it. The exo hums quietly and leans back on his hands, sliding his hood off and tilting his head to admire Andal's profile.

“Long day?” he watches the smoke slide lazily out of soft chapped lips and wishes he had lips of his own to press against them. 

“Lots of faction bullshit, New Monarchy, as always, wanting more funds for arbitrary ‘City centered support’ we can't freely give them funds without Dead Orbit going off the Tower about it.” he ashes over the side of the Tower, “Shit, sorry Spades, I know you don't really want to hear all this.” 

“I don't mind.” he could listen to Andal talk about the most mundane things and he would never get tired of it. He'll never tell him that but he can't stop thinking it. 

Andal takes another drag of the cigarette before flicking it off the Tower. “Don't lie. Want to go for a Crucible match? Just one?” he suggests with a smile. Cayde loves the way his voice gets fuzzy as he holds in the smoke to say something. The circle of smoke Andal puffs out only to send a pointed blow through it, as if it were his Void-bow makes Cayde smile. 

“Sure, but don't be mad when I catch you off guard, _Sugar._ ” he stands and brushes off the back of his pants as Andal laughs openly, a full laugh that rings in Cayde's ears. 

“I still don't know how you came up with that nickname. Almost prefer you calling me ‘old man.’” he scratches a gloved hand through his beard and eyes Cayde with a soft look. Looking away, Cayde holds his hand out for Andal and Andal pulls himself up, not mentioning the linger in their grip. They had a good few rounds in the Crucible, Cayde won with a stealthy knife thrown at Andal's knee and a too close for comfort shotgun shell to the face. Cayde's chest felt tight as Andal dragged them to a quiet bar in a remote corner of the Tower, knowing that Andal's day was much worse than he let on. He listens to Andal's voice grow more gruff with sleep and drunkenness, dimly aware that he's reaching his limit. 

“Let's go home Andal.” he says, not choosing his words carefully and Andal raises a brow at him. 

“Go _home_?” the glass clinks softly on the counter as Andal finishes what's left and sets it down. Cayde slides an arm around Andal's back and lifts him, letting Andal lean solidly against him. They slowly make their way to Cayde's apartment, eventually Cayde had to stop to piggy-back Andal there, his cheek against Cayde's shoulder. He wished Andal wouldn't do this with him, that he’d found some kinderguardian to make fall in love with him, people would fall at Andal's feet once they got to know him. Guiding Andal through his apartment to the shower always felt strange, as if Andal forgot about everything each night as he slept. He wondered briefly, as he left Andal in the bathroom to go lay down, if he could get Andal to fall in love with him every day. Cayde never felt like he was being taken advantage of, it almost felt the other way around when Andal slotted up against his back, smelling clean and shower warm. Still drunk Andal always wrapped his arms around Cayde and waited for him to say something-anything to let Andal know he was still there. 

“I love you.” Cayde whispers, if he still had a throat it would have a knot in it, if he still had a stomach he would have butterflies, if he still had a heart it would stop. 

“I know.” Andal whispers back and pulls their bodies flush. Cayde entertains the thought that he would be crying about this, confessing the only thought that's filled his head for how many decades only for Andal to hold it in his hands like a caught moth. Saying it out loud felt like the Void, swallowing, all-encompassing, and he hoped Andal would forget about this too while he slept. Every point of contact between them kept Cayde from moving or doing anything as he felt Andal relax into sleep. He wanted to stay, to wake Andal in the morning and share a cigarette like they had earlier in the evening. Instead he gets out of his own bed and leaves his own apartment, he picks up a few scout missions and turns his comms off. Flying never eased his mind, but being out in the wilds, getting dirt in his boots and feeling animal again did. He didn't know how long he had been planet hopping to secure intel to take back to the Tower when another scout closed in on him. 

“You're wanted back by the Vanguard.” the Warlock tells him, either deliberately sent after him or just pleasant happenstance. He shakes his head and pawns off the information he’d learned, calling for his ship and leaving the planet to avoid another confrontation. 

“Why am I running away?” he pulls his helmet off and lets it tumble to the floor of his ship. The feeling of Andal clinging to him like the smoke from a cigarette, barely there yet unforgettable. He knew he was playing a cruel joke on himself, as if the distance would sever his feelings for Andal. As if being separated would cure him of the magnetic pull to Andal like the tide to the moon. Cayde set his course for the Last City and purposefully left his comms off. Keeping to the shadows as best as he could Cayde made it back to his apartment without so much as a wave to anyone. He showers and lays down, his head hitting a sheet of paper. The poorly folded paper had carefully scribbled ink showing through, Cayde didn't read it, he shoved it under other papers on the desk beside his bed. Exos don't usually sleep, hunters sleep even more rarely than exos but Cayde slept. And he slept fitfully. The warmth of a body around his, sugary smell of alcohol and the barest hint of smoke haunted his dreams now too. He didn't want to wake, for fear that this Andal would leave him like the real Andal had. The soft blue light of an eastern moon shone through his window as he woke with a start. His hand reaching out in the bed for a body that wasn't there. 

“How long was I out?” he asks his Ghost, expecting the usual twenty minutes to have gone by. 

“Three days.” the little construct whirrs happily as if the information were helpful. Cayde sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. This wasn't any better than running away. Cayde stood and stretched, the joints and cords pulling audibly, he wasn't sure he’d ever slept for three days in all of his lives. He dressed and sought out the Warlock Vanguard, finding her throwing punches with a Titan. 

“I heard you wanted to see me, did you finally realize how handsome I am?” he jests with her, resting his chin on crossed arms, staring up at her. 

“Cayde it's been two months, and we both know I'm not the Vanguard who wanted you.” Ikora grunted as she took a punch, returning one just as swiftly. 

“Saint-14 needs _me_? I'm getting on up in the Tower politics Ikora, maybe I'll lead the Monarchy for those nutjobs.” deflecting, he's nervous about talking to Andal and Ikora knows it. She calls a timeout and crouches to stare him straight in his optics. 

“You don't have to talk to him, just go see him, see how he's doing.” she wipes her face with the towel around her neck and he tries to simulate a look of fear. 

“If I die I'm coming back and betting on something I know you can't win.” the sound of her laughter behind him makes him feel better if only for that moment. He doesn't go to the table, he knows Andal wouldn't be there, his feet take him past his apartment to the bar they always drank at. The bartender gestures vaguely to the man asleep at the bar, clearly a drunk Andal. Cayde lifts Andal up by his waist, his arm around Cayde's shoulders. 

“Let's go home Andal.” he whispers softly and suddenly it feels just like two months ago and Cayde feels like he put the wrong end of the cigarette to his mouth, tasting ash. He carries Andal up to his apartment again and guides him to his shower, this time having to help him bathe, Cayde's fingers in his hair scrubbing two month's worth of dirt away. He ignores the sound of Andal vomiting in his toilet and reminds him gently to brush his teeth. Cayde helps Andal into his bed first this time, his back to the wall and Cayde slides under the blanket with him, facing him instead of with his back to him. He brushes his fingers over the high cheekbones and slightly more hollowed cheeks, tracing sharp brows and thumbing Andal's bottom lip. 

“I love you.” he tells Andal again, grateful for the booze-sleep that swallowed him moments ago. Cayde doesn't leave this time, he lays with Andal, holding him close, the soft breathing a tide in its own way. Andal sleeps solidly, so unlike a Hunter that Cayde wonders if Andal died in his sleep, he doesn't wake when the sun rises or when it goes down and Cayde calls for his Ghost in fear. The realization that Andal is catching up on two month's worth of sleep makes his chest ache, really the Hunter Vanguard should take better care of themselves. He watches Andal's eyes move under bruised black lids, his muscles twitch softly as he fights the things in his mind, Cayde can't take his eyes away. Soft black curls that were always cut short were now down to his shoulders, and Cayde brushes through them. Why hadn't anyone helped Andal, it couldn't be because of him that Andal was like this. He wants to laugh at himself, himself from two months ago should've flown into the Sun, but he didn't and now he's here in bed with Andal, who doesn't love him back. Cayde isn't bitter, he tells himself, he didn't miss this, he didn't miss Andal or the City. When Andal wakes with a start in the morning he blinks at Cayde before laying back down, fingers winding into Cayde's. 

“You were gone for a while, huh Spitfire?” Andal tries to tease him, to hide the knot in his throat that Cayde can hear anyway. He feels Andal's skin heat and he ignores the shuddering as Andal presses his face into the pillow, still holding Cayde's hand. 

“Long day?” he asks and Andal laughs wetly, sniffling as he lifts his face from the pillow. Cayde thinks he looks beautiful even like this.

“You don't even know.” Andal's voice is hoarse and Cayde decides it sounds nice. It feels nice to have Andal coming apart under his hands the way he had been coming apart in the wilds. Consumed with nothing but the desire to see a genuine smile on those thin cracked lips, Cayde slides a hand under Andal's neck. He tips his head forward and presses it against Andal's, feeling the pulse under his palm flutter a little faster at the contact. Cayde chuckles at this, at himself for being so forward, the look on Andal's face could be described only as terror. He wasn't a serious person, no one would think of Cayde that way, not even Andal. But he was serious now, and he could feel Andal's skin flush with heat at the narrowing of his optics. 

“I love you.” he whispers, just audible between them, and he brushes Light lips against the corner of Andal's mouth. Cayde doesn't miss the shaking hand fisted in the front of his shirt, it feels like a solar light hotter than his own. “Andal.” this whisper like a prayer, he sounds like those fanatics of Osiris’ with the way he says Andal's name. So he says it again as he brings his other hand up between them to brush hair out of Andal's face. “Andal. I love you.” his vocalizer crackles with static and Andal closes his eyes, tentatively pressing his lips against Cayde's. Ungloved hands tremble against him as they make the climb from his shirt to his neck and shoulder. Cayde can't bring himself to close his eyes, an inkling of fear that if he does Andal will be gone again. So he sees the tears that darken Andal's lashes before falling down his cheeks. He pulls his face away from Andal's and sighs, he brushes his thumbs on his cheeks, wiping the tears away. 

“I woke up in your bed Cayde. I always wake up in your bed. And you're _never there_.” Andal's voice wavers and he opens his eyes to look up at Cayde. This is new for Andal, baring his soul to him and Cayde can't tear his eyes away. He doesn't pull his hands away from holding Andal's face but he needs to move. So he brushes comforting fingers against Andal's cheek, his other hand carding through soft curls. Andal's use of his name and not a nickname is heavier than usual, he means this, this is a hurt that's been there for a while. A thorn in both of their sides that's finally been pulled and won't stop bleeding. Wishing he could stop the ache in his chest Cayde searches Andal's face for anything other than agony. This wasn't a situation he wanted to talk himself out of, even if it hurt. “I tried to tell myself this was just, a crush or-or something, not _this_. The thought of you, Cayde, eats at me.” a shudder works its way through Cayde at how dark Andal's tone is. Cold fingers slide up his arm and grip his wrist and Cayde stops brushing his fingers through Andal's hair. “I thought it was just the job, how close we work, but then _you left_.” a sob crawls its way out of Andal and he tries to cover it with laughter. “I felt like I was falling apart. Cayde it's...it's not fair.” he hangs his head and squeezes Cayde's wrist. Usually Cayde would be the one to be straightforward and it showed now as Andal struggled with what he needed to say. Maybe it was a little off color for Andal to break down but he had gone two months without sleep, and Cayde knew he needed this. He had Cayde, holding him, there with him, his Light a balm on Andal's soul. 

“Listen, Andal. It's okay if you don't,” he pauses, really wondering if it would be okay, “It's okay if you don't love me back. I wouldn't.” he smiles at Andal and scratches his thumb through Andal's overgrown facial hair. A sad chuckle is all he gets in return. 

“I'm trying to tell you that I do love you back, Cayde.” Andal lifts his head and wipes his face with the hand he removes from Cayde's neck. Cayde blinks, opens his mouth and closes it, he shakes his head and hears Andal sniffle. Having his feelings reciprocated almost feels like a punch to the gut and Cayde can't even joke, especially since Andal means it. “I should've told you sooner.” It's quiet and filled with an audible regret and Cayde lets out a bark of laughter, catching Andal's attention. 

“If I didn't know you better I'd think you were joking.” It's wobbly and Cayde's fingers ache to move, to touch Andal, so he does. He draws a gentle arch over high cheekbones and closes the gap between them. The Light under his fingers is no longer cold and toiling within Andal, but warm and yielding and Cayde thinks he prefers it this way. 

“We have all the time in the world to remedy these few decades.” Dry hands caress his cheek plates and Cayde chuckles quietly.

“You sound very much like a Vanguard, _sir_. Very pragmatic.” Cold fingers slide against his stomach plates and Andal's in his face, his lips against Cayde's. 

“Don't start with me Six. We were having a moment.” It's a whisper against Cayde's mouth and it makes his stomach flip with delight. He'd have to remind himself to push that button later on. Cayde moves forward and pushes Andal back, laying the Vanguard out on his bed. He smooths Andal's hair out of his face and straddles his hips with his knees to keep him there. 

“So?” Cayde sits back on Andal's thighs and stares down at him, no escape. Cool hands tap out a nonsensical rhythm on Cayde's thighs, to force the anxiety elsewhere. 

“So?” Andal parrots, a wavering sound of confusion, not at all like Cayde's. 

“So tell me.” It's more of a question but he sees the way black brows pull together in still more confusion. Leaning forward, Cayde slips a hand under Andal's shirt and delights in the slight squirm under his palm. “Tell me that you love me.” He's quiet and he hopes Andal doesn't wave this off as Cayde playing around. Fingertips squeeze his thighs with the barest hint of pressure and he takes it as a reassuring gesture.

“I love you Cayde.” There's a smile in the words and Cayde doesn't miss the tears barely there at the corners of Andal's eyes. He leans to meet Andal, giving his best imitation of a smile.

“I know.” His lips graze Andal's and Cayde thinks he'd like to stay like this forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, long time no content. This has been in the works for several months and it still feels unfinished but I need it out there. To share this. I guess I have a lot of Cayde feelings. I hope you all enjoy, thank you so much for reading!


End file.
